


Lekach

by redsnake05



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Baking, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:25:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: A cut finger takes Ferdinand Lyle to the kitchens, where he finds warmth, acceptance and help from Ethan and Sembene. They all find ways to look for simple hope and joy in the work of their hands.





	Lekach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freneticfloetry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freneticfloetry/gifts).



Ferdinand Lyle wrapped his cut finger in his handkerchief, praying that he hadn't splattered any blood over any of the extremely dangerous artefacts on the table. He really did not think that any of them were quite ready to deal with that sort of crisis. Satisfied by the lack of any kind of foul smell or explosions, and the complete absence of threatening manifestations of the devil, he withdrew from the drawing room and went to seek some clean water and a bandage.

He'd never been to the kitchens before, but it seemed that he should have made his way there before. The carpets gave way to polished wood, then to cold, close-set stone. His heels clicked on them incongruously. He pushed open the door onto a scene of comforting domesticity. Sembene was kneading bread at the table while Ethan stoked the fire, and they seemed completely unsurprised by his entrance. In fact, it almost seemed like they'd been waiting for him. He was warmed by the acceptance he read into it.

"I have rather foolishly cut my hand," he said, displaying the bloody evidence. 

Ethan closed the range and straightened, saying, with his charming smile, "I will take a look at it for you, if you think I can be trusted." Ferdinand prudently refrained from expressing his enthusiasm at the prospect of Ethan's undivided attention and simply nodded.

Ethan poured some hot water into a bowl as Ferdinand unwrapped his hand. He whistled as he saw the size of the cut.

"I hope you didn't get any of this on the table," he said. "The last thing we need is someone else possessed."

"I just don't wish it to scar and spoil my good looks," Ferdinand retorted, partly to cover his own fear of that happening. 

"An important concern." said Ethan. "I would certainly find it easier to go about my day if you were less distractingly handsome, but I will do my best to make sure it does not scar. Sembene, where are the bandages? Do we have basilicum powder?"

"With the number of dangerous things going on, do you think we'd be without it?" asked Sembene. "In the cupboard by the door. Next to the yew stakes."

"I didn't know you made our bread," said Ferdinand as he took a seat at the table.

"I don't always," said Sembene. "But it is a peaceful way to spend some time, and bread is very forgiving."

"When I was a child," said Ferdinand, "my grandmother taught me to make honey cake, and I remember it being very soothing. And, of course, one gets to eat at the end."

"We always need cake, and who are we to deny a man a soothing pastime?" said Sembene. "You are welcome to stay and bake once Ethan has seen to your finger. I have never eaten honey cakes."

Ferdinand was silent as Ethan rummaged in the cupboard for the bandages. Sembene continued his unhurried kneading. Ferdinand was transported back to his grandmother's house, and the way she had stood him up on a chair and sung softly to him as he earnestly helped to measure and mix. As the cake baked, she had told him stories of her family in the old country, and he still whispered the prayers she had taught him before he ate, at least if alone. It was a uniformly sweet memory from an uncomplicated time, before his father had come into money, and before his mother had been pressured to forget her past and make sure Ferdinand did the same.

"Rinse your finger," Ethan said, and Ferdinand submerged it without protest. The blood swirled away into the water and the stinging eased. "What did you cut it on?" he asked.

"My knife, and not a shard, fortunately. I shall take care to mend my pens well clear from the table in future."

"A wise precaution," Ethan said. He dried the finger on a bit of lint and dusted it with powder. "I shall wrap this, as another precaution. I do not wish you to enter the ranks of the undead, nor do I wish for any outbreak of hell in the drawing room."

"Provided it was only a small outbreak, Sir Malcom and the others could mop it up without troubling us, I am sure," Ferdinand said. "I am going to take advantage of Sembene's kind invitation to stay here and bake, and remind myself of simple pleasures." He was suddenly filled with yearning to recapture, if he could, some straightforward joy. Lekach would be sweet and nourishing to the soul, even if detrimental to the waistline.

"Simple pleasures are something we are short on," Ethan said. "I sometimes wish I had some."

"I will bake with you," Ferdinand said, "if you wish to learn. This cake is best made by two, to pool our shared hopes for a sweet future."

"Between us, we may make one person's worth of hopes," said Ethan. He finished winding the bandage around Ferdinand's finger and stood up to remove the basin.

"I live in hope," Ferdinand said. "Why should we not wish for a brighter future, no matter how unlikely, or how fleeting it may prove to be?" Ethan smiled as he tipped the water out, but returned no answer.

"I have seen people cling to hope in times as dark as these," said Sembene, "and I used to think them foolish. But now I find myself living in tiny hopes, made of cakes and tea, and the company of strangers become family." 

Ferdinand felt warmed by being included in Sembene's declaration. They were indeed a strange found family, but he loved each member dearly and not least because of the fragility of their bonds. He had sometimes found the most brittle of artefacts to be the most rewarding, if only for the pains one had to take to keep them whole.

"Very well, I will hold fast to hope also, at least for long enough to learn how to cook," said Ethan.

"Good, good," said Ferdinand. "I'd be obliged if you could find us both an apron. Trust in our handiwork, but first protect one's waistcoat."


End file.
